Radio
by halfwaymissingyou
Summary: Ted listens to the radio and the Onceler watches. Implied Tedler if you squint


_Radio_

_Ted listens to the radio and the Onceler watches_

_._

**-takes place in an AU where the Onceler would be about twenty and resembles Greedler-**

* * *

.

It was one of those times. When Onceler forgets he's just a boy, and may not have the greatest attention span, but leaves him alone in the limo anyways, promising he'll be only a moment. But he's not. So then there's Ted aimlessly flipping through the stations playing with the little knob, until finally he's give up. There's nothing on, so he clicks scan hoping it will come across something good, maybe something danceable, because he's been in this car for a good twenty minutes now and he really needs to move. And then it plays a song he knows the lyrics to by heart, and they're coming from his mouth before he can even process the name and artist.

He clucks his tongue, shakes his head, and waggles his hips to the beat. If only there were a hairbrush, or something like it, shape and size wise. Something he could use for a make-believe microphone. The seatbelt is strangling so he unclips it, allowing himself more arm rooms to raise and lower his arms. The song has hit the mid chorus point now, the rhythm going faster and faster until he's stumbling over his own words in order to keep up.

If only Onceler were here, he never seemed to have such a problem when they played games like Rockband. After all, he was usually the one on mic _and _bass if he was in a particularly good mood, and didn't have too much paperwork, leaving Ted to fend for himself on the drums.

At that thought, the idea hits him as the original artist sings an incredibly high note, and Ted snorts with disbelief betting his pocket money that, that one point if not the whole song was edited in studio. But he's rolling down the windows with the side cranks, and turning up the volume on the dial.

Ted reaches high on his left shoulder and strum his air guitar, the microphone completely forgotten. At least without the Onceler here, he finally got his try at bass. But the air guitar quickly bores as well, and Ted resorts to singing, air guitar strumming, and possibly a little drumming slash air keyboarding, as the chorus belts out one last time.

And the music's so loud, the thump thump of the rhythmic pattern echoing in his ears that he doesn't realize it's ended, gone on to a much calmer country song, something about kisses in the eerie twilight, which at his young tender age makes Ted bored even more so and reaches forward to flip the switch again. But then the laughter registers, and its not his own, and Ted's whirling in the seat coming face to face with two very blue eyes that seem particularly gleefully despite having come from quite a grueling meeting.

"What are you doing?"

The Onceler doesn't respond, though he bites his bottom lip and smirks. And Ted can't help but wonder how long he's been there, standing and watching Ted act like a complete idiot.

A blush creeps into his cheeks, as he brings his head to his hands hoping to block out the last couple of minutes. He waits for a remark, a sneer. But there's nothing. He's used to these responses, the odd changes between the Onceler, where one moment he could be kind, yet anxious and somewhat distant, to angry and judgmental seeking nothing but ways to show his disapproval. Still there was this something that drew Ted to him like a bumblebee to honey, and well, here he was, red-face and embarrassed beyond belief. Awaiting the onslaught of insults he was sure were coming.

.

But instead, there was pressure.

A light pressure, as if some has pushed the pad of their finger to his temple. A soft gentle push, quick, but it did the job, or at least the Onceler supposed it did as he pulled back and watched the realization dawn slowly on the younger boy's face.

"D-did you j-just _kiss me_?" The last two words seemed to come out in slow motion, his voice barely audible, nothing more than a whisper.

"Maybe." The Onceler replied, rocking on his feet, a sly smile finding its way across his face. Ted couldn't figure which Onceler this was, it seemed almost a mix of the two, too confident to be the innocent Onceler he knew, but too tame to be the businessman. "Now scoot over."

Ted slid form the driver's seat where he'd been sitting, back into the passenger side as the Onceler regained his place behind the wheel. Placing both hands on said wheel, he added with a snort, "I love that song by the way."

Ted buried his head in his arms as the limo made its way home.

* * *

_How baaaaad can I be? I'm just doing what comes naturally~_


End file.
